The Fall

Your face is the fall,
My most cherished season,
But you're covered in blood,
The blood of a spring dried up.

I want to cool you off,
Turn you into the peaceful winter,
But, just as predictable as a clock,
You'll be back to spring before I know it.

A losing game I keep trying to win,
But maybe I'm playing the wrong game?
Instead of wanting to be the trees, altered by your winds,
Maybe I should be the birds, and stick by your side?

Watch the fall of a once great man,
Watch him fall through the shattered seasons,
Stick around, if you feel like it,
You know he'd enjoy your calming presence.

This will be a very interesting autumn, indeed.

-Sir Jestro